The True Spider Queen
by myrnnecromanson
Summary: Drizzt wasn't expecting visitors, especially not the ones that popped into his home one morning about a year after the battle between Ten Towns and the Barbarian tribes. Now these odd, planes-walking beings from a realm unknown to him have questions which he, as a drow, will hopefully be able to answer. And Lolth is ill at ease...
1. Ch 1: Extra-Planar Visitors

** Chapter One: Extra-Planar Visitors**

This story takes place about a year after the war of Ten Towns and the Barbarians. Please note that this is a mixture of the Legend of Drizzt series, the Elder Scrolls, and Magic: The Gathering, as well as my own. There are also some references to other stories, movies, etc, that I don't feel like writing down at the moment. I do not own any of the above stated characters or settings (aside from my own), and this is an entirely non profit story. However, I did make up and I claim full ownership of Myrn, Oberon, Jason, Yvonne, Sab Sab, Kim Kim, Phelan, Niv, Arachne, Leigh, Juu, and any other characters like that. They are from a story that I am almost done writing and just about ready to publish. That said, please enjoy the story!

Calm, peaceful, and warm. The morning hours had come in all their bright, sun-shining glory, and Drizzt Do'Urden was settling down to sleep, Guen stalking over to the hide covered entrance to keep an eye out for intruders. The powers that be decided that this was the perfect time to pop in a visitor. Or two. Or, you know, half a dozen.

And by "pop in a visitor" I do mean "pop in a visitor". Literally. The air became thin throughout the cave, save for one spot in the center of the chamber, where it was condensing until one could almost slice it with a knife. An inter-planar rift was forming, and that could only mean one of two things; angels or demons. Chances were it wasn't going to be anything from anywhere near heaven. Leaping from his bed of furs, Drizzt drew his scimitars, readying himself for the battle to come.

With a less than brilliant flash of red and blue light, the first arival appeared, landing on the floor with the practiced ease of someone who had done this many times in the past. To Drizzt's amazement, it wasn't a demon, or an angel. It looked like a... dwarf. A dwarf with thick brown hair, and peridot green eyes slitted like those of a dragon. Before the drow could react, however, the portal opened again, and another figure burst into this plane of existance- landing on the dwarf and knocking both sprawling with a collective grunt. In the span of a heart beat, the rift had spewed forth a group of assorted creatures, each landing on the one that had entered before, until they all lay in a tangled heap.

Dizzt couldn't help it. He laughed. Startled by the noise, the writhing mass of limbs and bodies disentangled itself, forming several seperate entities. There was the dwarf with the dragon eyes, a tall orange-ish-haired human female with a large, fish-tailed snake looped about her arms, two humanoids that looked to be half cougar, one male and the other female, a fairly small pale-skinned elf with black hair and gold eyes, and another human, this one a girl with wild gray hair and... scratch that. It wasn't a human. It was a werewolf in almost-human form.

A moment of akward silence followed, in which Drizzt stared at the newcomers, sizing them up and trying to figure what his chances of survival would be. Likewise, they were studying him with varying degrees of shock, suspicion, and curiosity. Guen stayed to the shadows in the back-ground, prowling in anticipation of the coming battle.

Suddenly the surface elf took a step forward, thrusting out his right hand in a friendly gesture. "Hi! I'm Myrnolius Shrell, Myrn for short," he said, smiling cheerily. It was so unexpected, so out of the blue, that Drizzt's mouth dropped open in surprise. A surface elf? Being friendly, not just civil, to him? On the first encounter, without Drizzt needing to prove himself? The drow was quite taken aback.

Was it a trick? A trap of some sort? If so, for what purpose? suspicions and questions spun around in his head, until he was thuroughly confused. But the smile the surface dweller offered was genuine, untainted by fear or deceit. Responding in kind, Drizzt grasped the outstretched hand firmly and gave it a hearty shake.

"And I am Drizzt Do'Urden."

"Cool...er, well met, as I guess ya'll would say around here," Myrn said, turning to his friends, each of whom offered their own hands in turn. He slapped the two cat-people on the back first. "These are my best friends, and second family, Jason and Yvonne Shedhelm. Don't call them kitty-kitties unless you want to be fed your own barbequed entrails."

The drow had hardly shook hands with the first before the hyper-energetic surface elf was pulling the human and her snake over. "And this," he said, a slightly protective tone creeping into his voice, "is my fiance, Sab Sab."

The human nodded, her grip as firm as Drizzt's own. "Pleased to make your aquaintance," she said. With a jolt, the drow realized that her teeth were definately not those of a human. They were more akin to those of a shark, sharp and triangular in shape.

Before he could ask about this unusual fact, the snake slid down off her shoulders. If he hadn't know any better, he would have sworn he heard it huff under its breath. It slithered across the floor to him, then lifted itself up so that its head swayed on level with his own.

"And I," it said, flicking out its tongue at him, "am her older sister, Kim Kim."

Drizzt took a hasty step back, staring at the serpent in shock. It claimed to be the sister of the human? How-?

"Don't mind her," came a slightly lupine voice, reminiscent of a dog's throaty growl. The were-wolf girl stood infront of him, one hand wrapped tightly around the snake's neck. "She's quite the attention grabber. Think's the whole world revolves around her." She gave the snake a friendly smack and let it go. "I'm Phelan De Sabreclaw." The drow gave her his hand first, which she whole-heartedly wrung the life from.

Ruefully rubbing his deadened wrist, Drizzt turned to greet the last newcomer, the dwarf, and stopped short. The scene before him was one of absolute hilarity, and he fell to the ground, laughing. Guen had the dwarf pinned to the floor and was licking his ruddy, freckled face with her rough tongue. Myrn had his back pressed against the massive panther's side, trying with no sucsess to push her off.

Drizzt wiped away a tear of merriment, gasping for breath, and was about to ask Guen to have mercy, when the panther hissed and jumped back, pawing at her tongue as if it pained her. She retreated to his side, growling threateningly at the dwarf. Or rather, at what was sitting in the dwarf's beard.

A lizard, with a triangular head, a broad, flat body, and a long, whip-like tail, stood defensively attop the dwarf's chin. It's mouth was held open in a silent hiss, it's throat-sac fully extended and blacker than Drizzt's own skin, and it's body was so inflated it looked ready to burst.

"There, there, Niv," the dwarf said softly, sitting up. He held the lizard in his hands, stroking it gently along its throat. "The nice kitty-kitty won't eat me." He looked up, nodding to Drizzt. "My name's Oberon Rhondrihr. This is Niv, the beard-dragon." As if in response, the lizard bobbed its head and waved its front leg at Drizzt.

Smiling at what he thought was a clever trick the dwarf had taught it, the dark-elf reached out a hand to pet the beard-dragon. Opening its mouth all the way, the creature belched, sending a jet of flame at him. With a yelp of surprise, Drizzt leaped back, sticking his singed fingers into his mouth. Oberon chuckled.

"I was about to say that wasn't a very good idea, but it looks like Niv beat me to it," he said, grinning mischeiviously. "The head bobbing and hand waving is a challenge, not a greeting."

"I see," Drizzt murmurred around his fingers. He glanced at the whole group, finally remembering just how they had gotten into his home. Taking his hand from his mouth, he patted Guen's sleek furred head. "This is Guen, my truest friend and companion." His smile faded then, and he narrowed his eyes.

"But what, may I ask," he said, he voice becoming ever so slightly menacing, "are you doing here?"


	2. Ch 2: An Intense Nerd Moment

** Chapter Two: An Intense Nerd Moment**

"We are here..." Jason the cougar-man said, pausing for effect and glancing around the room, "to seek information concerning..." yet another pause. "...Concerning d-"

"Drow," Sab Sab said, casting Jason a venemous glare. Drizzt looked at her questioningly, but she didn't notice. "Seriously, just spit it out. You always over-kill the dramatics."

Jason stuck his tongue out at her before continuing. "Yeah, we're trying to learn as much about your peeps as we can. For certain reasons."

"Such as?" the drow asked, raising one eye-brow.

"Some of 'em traveled to our world," Phelan said, her fists clenching. "We welcome visitors gladdly, but we do not take kindly to those who murder our kin and friends." She met Drizzt's gaze, her eyes welling up with tears she tried to fight back. "They tried to kill Captana Gizelle and Arachne, my older-sisterish captain, and my closest friend. Gizelle will never walk again, and we want to know why."

"Because her legs were shattered," Kim Kim muttered. Myrn, who was closest to her, 'accidentally' stepped on her tail. Disregarding the angry hissing and the fangs nipping at his ankle, he finished Phelan's thought.

"We want to know," he said, "if there was any reason to this violence, or if it was purely random evil for evil's sake. They did a lot more harm, in more places than Efelda, than Phelan stated."

"No," Drizzt said, rubbing the back of his neck. "There seems no reason to do so. I am surprised they could even go to your world. It is not of this realm, is it? And, for that matter, how did you get here?"

"Answer number one," Oberon replied. "yeah, our world is on a totally different plane. And number two: some of us, I'm not saying who exactly, are planes-walkers. Those with the spark are able to travel between the many different worlds of the multiverse. For some unknown reason though, the people of our world are unharmed by the blind eternities, even when they themselves are not planeswalkers, allowing them to hitch a ride with one to other planes. Actually, it's an incredible coincidence that we ended up right here, not ten feet from a friendly drow. Our ride must've been hoping really hard for it."

The dark-elf didn't truly understand at all, but he really didn't think he ever would. So, with no idea what other response to make to that statement, Drizzt simply nodded. Perhaps it would all make sense later. Something in the back of his mind stirred, and he looked over at Phelan.

"you said your friend's name was Arachne?" he asked. "Does that not mean spider?"

"Yeah. Or it could be refering to the creatures called arachnids, like scorpions, mites and ticks too."

The old memories were really starting to stir now. "... Does she have certain...powers? Such as the ability to command spiders, for instance."

Phelan scratched her chin. "...hmmm...Yeah. She always had a kind of affinity for the things. They were all over the place in the dormitory we shared, but they never bit us or anything." She smiled then, a far-away look coming into her eyes. "I remember this one time when Skyler was walking down the halls nearby, he almost stepped on one, a really pretty black and yellow thing, and she just dove under his feet and grabbed it. When I asked her how she knew it was in danger, she said she had seen the world through its eyes."

"Pretty?" Drizzt asked in disbelief. All the peoples he had ever come across, even the goblins, saw spiders as ugly, vile creatures. The drow themselves, followers of the spider-queen, Loth, who practically worshiped them, had never refered to spiders as 'pretty'.

"Yep, pretty." Myrn said. A light-elf saying a spider was anything but hideous? Would the surprises never end? "They are truly incredible creatures. I prefer them to stay outdoors, but they really are useful, beautiful works of wonder."

"I still don't like the little brutes," Yvonne said. Jason laughed, giving her a playful shove.

"I know! You scream like a banshee every time you see one!"

Yvonne pouted and was about to answer, but was beat to it by Myrn. "Oh, that's rich, Jay! I've seen you when you walk into a spider-web! It's like this-" he said, jumping up and flailing around and squealing. "Only you sound more like a cat getting its tail chopped off with a rusty saw!"

"I do not!"

Everyone in the room, save for Drizzt, Guen, and Jason, called out in a taunting voice: "Oh, Yes You DO!"

"... Are you saying Lolith sent those assassins to kill Arachne because she views her as a threat?" Phelan asked Drizzt, ignoring the childish banter of the others.

Drizzt nodded. "It's the only reason I can think of. But as to how your friend could pose a threat to her though, I... Lolith?"

"Yes. The one you call Loth. It is our name for her, traitorous demon that she is," Oberon answered.

Drizzt cocked his head to the side. This was new. Everyone else he had come across had said she was an evil goddess, but a goddess nonetheless. "I'll agree that she's traitorous alright, but she isn't a demon. She is the evil goddess of chaos and deception."

Myrn snorted. "Goddess?! Ha! She's no more a god than anyone else in this world! She's just a Spider Daedra that grew overly powerful!"

"A Spider Daedra?"

"Yes, a Spider Daedra. They are a lesser variety of Daedra, immortal beings with super-natural powers from the planes of Oblivion, that are servants to Mehrunes Dagon. Really, they're quite weak normally, they just tend to overwhelm their opponents with sheer strength of numbers. Like the goblins of this world.

"But Loth is... let's say special. Thousands of years ago, she was a concubine of Dagon, his favored servant, and as such she gained more strength and powers than her lesser kin, feeding off of his. Eventually, she became so strong she broke away with a group of her Spider-Deadra followers, and left Mehrune's plane of Oblivion, heading to this world." Myrn coughed slightly, clearing his throat before continuing.

"Dagon was upset to say the least, but he had other things to worry about and didn't give too much thought to Lolith's betrayel. She wasn't the first and she wouldn't be the last. But if they do ever meet again... Dagon never forgives."

"Ooooh, scholarly moment! Myrn's a nerd!" Jason called, laughing. Myrn flushed slightly, lowering his eyes in embarassment.

"Sorry if I was rambling," he mumbled. "I enjoy learning myths, legends, stories, zoology, and biology. And then sharing my knowledge with others, often to the point of being annoying."

"Pfft. I was just kidding, runt," Jason chuckled, catching Myrn in a head-lock. An instant later he yelped and jumped back, clutching his nose. Crimson liquid oozed around his fingers, dripping down to splash on the floor of the cave.

"I told you not to give me anymore knuckle-heads!" Myrn growled dangerously. Jason backed up slowly.

"Point taken," he said through his blood covered hands. With an expression that would have been accompanied by purring were he of the same race, Myrn nodded and relaxed.

"Thank goodness, because I hate breaking bones, especially noses. The sound is anything but pleasant."

"Noses are cartilage," Jason said, pulling a hankerchief from his pocket and pressing it against his muzzle.

"What-ev-er. Nerd. It still makes that sound that reminds me of nails on a chalk-board."

"Both of you, drop it," Phelan growled, planting her hands firmly on her hips. "We have more serious matters to attend to than philisophical discourses on the sound of breaking things. In case you forgot, my best friend was nearly assassinated."

"Okay, okay, chillax wolf-girl," Oberon muttered, laying a hand on her shoulder. "We're all very much aware of that. That's why we're here, after all."

"Anyway," he continued, turning to Drizzt. "What were you saying before we got side-tracked by Lolith and Spider Daedra?"

"...Back in the Underdark, when I was staying with the Deep Gnomes, I heard of an old story that claimed Lolth was not the true Spider Queen." Drizzt massaged his temples with his finger tips as he thought back to those days before he came to the surface. "All I caught was a half-hearted recounting of a legend that she had stolen the title from the original goddess, and set herself up as the deity of the drow, before they left the world of light."

"Not the true Spider Queen..." Myrn mumbled to himself. "...That seems to fit in with the fact that she's just a glorified Spider Daedra..."

"If she isn't the real one, then who is?" Phelan asked, shrugging her shoulders.

"Arachne."


	3. Ch 3: A Girl Obsessed with Spiders

** Chapter Three: A Little Girl Obsessed With Spiders**

Juubilee Welsen, a fire mage with a considerable pyromaniac steak, was not having a good week. It had started in the middle of the night a few days before, when she heard the shouts coming from the archers' complex. She had rushed out of the mages' dormitories to see what all the commotion was about, when she ran right into a black-skinned, white-haired elf weilding an exotic looking rapier. Instantly the odd being lunged at her, trying to run the blade through her torso, but she dodged to the side in the nick of time, only sustaining a shallow cut on her left shoulder. Her foe was not so lucky.

Leaving behind the smoldering ashes of her deceased attacker, Juu had hurried to the building across the way, where the archers of the Efeldan militant slept. When she got there, the fighting was already at an end. The corpses of eight more of the dark elves lay strewn on the ground, some killed by arrows, others by blades, and a few by magic. Several Efeldans had been badly injured, and three more had been killed in the battle. She didn't recognize any of those who had been slaughtered, but she realized with a sinking feeling that they could very well have been her friends. In the bright light cast by a fellow mage's glow-ball, she saw a familiar face.

"What in the name of flaming gobelins was that all about!"

Lyle Lendelt, a handsome elfin swordsman with dark blue hair turned to regard her. "Ask them," he said, pointing to a pair prisoners. Juu crept a bit closer, filled with curiosity. Whatever they were, they definately were elves, as she had originally thought, with flesh as black as ebony and manes of fluffy, snow white hair. Their eyes, she noted, were squeezed shut, not from fear but from pain. Yet they did not seem to be too badly injured...

"Dim the light," Juu said, turning to the mage. She recognized him as Leigh, Lyle's younger brother, a student of the telekinetic arts. Obviously, he had been learning other forms of magic as well, as the glow-ball showed.

Looking at her curiously, he obliged, letting his sphere of light go out. Her guess had been correct; these strange elves were hyper-sensitive to light. As the light became less intense, they slowly cracked their eyes open, and regarded their captors. They were as red as blood and glowed in the darkness.

"Drow," someone to her right gasped. She recognized the voice as that of none other than the king of Efelda himself. With a hasty bow, Juu stepped aside, allowing him an uninterrupted path to the two dark elves.

"What are you doing here," the king demanded, his voice dripping with venom. "You come in the night, unannounced, and start murdering my people. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't wring your necks right now."

The glowing red eyes, the only thing that could be seen of the prisoners, narrowed to slits, and the king's question was greeted by a string of odd words she couldn't begin to understand. The voice seemed to be female, but that was all she could gather as the drow continued to speak, very quickly, in it's strange language.

The king tensed, then began speaking back in the same langauge, obviously very angry. Juu was sure he was on the verge of strangling the talking drow, and she almost wished he would. Suddenly, the words of the prisoner seemed to change, and the mage got the distinct feeling that she was casting a spell. With an almost frightened shout, the king yanked the long-sword he carried from its sheath and swung it. There was the sound of metal slicing through flesh, the scent of blood, and the light of the drow's eyes flickered and died.

After a few seconds of silence, the king turned his attention to the other one.

That drow had been more than happy to spill the proverbial beans of the assassination plot. He and ten others had been sent by the the head preistesses of Lolith to kill the one called Arachne. And they would have succeeded, had she not had a nightmare earlier that night and run to her sister's room, murmering frightenedly about bad spiders and rivers of blood. Needless to say, she hadn't been able to fall back asleep, and as a consequense, neither could Gizelle. So the two of them had sat up, sipping tea in the dining hall. And that was where the drow had finally found her.

No one was sure exactly what had happened in the initial moments of the fight, but everyone agreed that it was Gizelle's scream of pain, when her legs were shattered from the knees down by a telekinetic spell, which alerted them. Arachne, following her sister's brief commands, had fled, leaving the archers' complex and running into the open air of the night. There, drawn into the open by their escaping quarry, the drow had met with their undoing at the hands of the rest of the Efeldan military.

The dark elf prisoner was locked in a non-magical cell after that, but when Arachne had gone down to see him, and ask a few questions of her own, he was dead. He had strangled himself with his own belt, rather than face the vengeance of the Spider Queen.

After that, Arachne had gone to visit her sister. The healers had barred anyone, including her, from seeing Captana Gizelle before, and she was not prepared for the sight which greeted her when she walked into the room. Gizelle's legs were gone.

Shattered beyond repair, the healers had been forced to amputate the archery captain's legs from the knees down. Gizelle smiled wryly at her little sister as she sat up in the bed.

"I am an archer," she said as Arachne gasped in horror. "My arms are what's important, not my feet."

That was all Juubilee knew about it. She guessed there was more (heck, if there wasn't, then everyone was crazier than she was), but she never learned the details. The day after the drow insident, Arachne had sent a message bird to her werewolf friend, Phelan de Sabreclaw, who now lived with the Shedhelms many miles away, telling her what had happened. And then, a few days later, she and Leigh had been assigned to be Arachne's bodyguards.

Because Arachne was looking for answers, and those could only be found in the realm of Fearun... Oh joy.


	4. Ch 4: Way Up North, to Alaska

** Chapter Four: Way Up North, To Alaska... Er, Icewind Dale.**

All eyes turned to Sab Sab. "What?" she said, shrugging. "It's the only logical explanation. Why else would Lolith send her followers, a priestess included, into what she must have known was a death-trap?"

"Maybe she didn't know-?" Yvonne started to say, but Sab shook her head.

"She had to have known. The drow knew exactly where to find Arachne. They must have been well aware that it was the barracks of the military. And if they thought that the militants of Efelda were helpless little wussies like Myrn here, no offense-" she added when he cast her a glare "-then they were total morons."

Drizzt nodded slowly. "Drow are not stupid," he said. "Those who are foolish do not survive long in the Underdark... Your conclusions make sense, though I can not begin to understand how this Arachne, a simple elf, could possibly be the true Spider Queen."

"She could if she was given the title by the original one," Myrn piped up. "It's not unheard of for Deadra rulers, the greater and lesser "gods" of Tamriel, and other planes, to pass their mantels on to a mortal."

"Right," Sab Sab agreed, giving him a wink. "We all know about Sheogorath. He gave his rule, and Deadric powers, to a Bosmer about your age, didn't he?"

"Yeah, after said Bosmer defeated him in his true form as Jygalag, god of Order," Jason added.

"Yep. Fun stories you can pick up when you visit other planes," Myrn said, nodding. Drizzt though the young elf might have been blushing a little as he said it, but he couldn't be sure.

"If Arachne is the true Spider Queen, how could we be sure?" Jason asked nodbody in particular.

"By asking the first, of course," Kim Kim replied, chuckling. "And I just so happen to know who that is."

"Who?" Drizzt inquired, giving her his full attention.

"Oh, an aquaintance I met a century or so ago."

Oberon glared at the snake. "No riddles, Kim; just spit it out."

Kim Kim shook her head, letting out a theatrical sigh. "Oh, the things I endure. Honestly, you people have no appreciation for the finer points of conversation..." a threatening growl from deep in the dwarf's throat made her stop rambling on "... Her name is Grala Grala."

"Old Mother Grala?" Sab Sab said in disbelief. "I know she's the oldest living morph-mother, but really?"

Kim nodded. "Her. A very, VERY long time ago. Used to tell father's father tales of a time when she could call forth an army of 'eight-legs', before the power was stolen from her." She laughed lightly, shaking her head. "And here I thought those were all just the tall tales of an aging mind longing for a listening ear."

Drizzt held up a hand. "What is a 'morph-mother?"

"The female counterpart of a morph-father." Yvonne said, shrugging.

"And what is a 'morph-father'?"

"An excedingly old morpher, one who has seen countless ages and holds the wisdom and knowledge such great longevity has given him. Or, in the case of a morph-mother, her," Sab Sab answered him. She held up her own hand to stall his next question, guessing what it would be. "As to what a morpher is, I and my sister are fine examples."

So saying, the substance of the "human" seemed to change from firm flesh, to melting wax ( giving Drizzt unpleasant flash-backs of Lolth's 'hand-maids' ), and then solidifying once more. But now, where once had stood a beautiful human maid, there was a hideous, terrifying beast.

With a startled cry of fear, Drizzt fell back. The creature stood as tall as a man, but its skin was a mottled scarlet, and its large, slanting eyes of the same color had slitted pupils. Writhing, serpentine tentacles cascaded from its head, framing the flattened face in a crude imitation of hair. Its long, clawed toes and fingers were webbed, and a tail like that of a mermaid sprouted from its backside, curling about its feet. It smiled, its thin-lipped mouth opening to fully reveal not one, but three rows of sharp, triangular teeth.

"This is my true form," it said with Sab Sab's voice. For it was Sab Sab.

Drizzt continue to stare at her, his face ash gray, as he drew his scimitars. This being was a demon! No other creature had such powers! The morpher's eyes flashed from him to the weapons, then back. "Draw those against me, and regret it," she hissed.

But it was too late. Even as she uttered the threat, the drow had leapt into action, swinging his swords in at her from two different angles. She shot out her left arm and caught the blade of one in her hand, then wrapped one tentacle about the hilt of the other. With a sharp tug of inhuman strength, the weapons were yanked from Drizzt's hands and clattered to the floor. Sab Sab's right hand grabbed him by the throat, and she leaned in close, her breath moist on his face.

"Rule number one," she growled. "Never underestimate you opponent." Drizzt choked as the fingers tightened and no air could enter his lungs. "Especially when that opponent is a morpher."

"Actually, that's rule number two," Jason corrected her. "Rule number one is not to take your eyes off of your opponent." Aside from Kim Kim, who had wrapped herself around Guen to keep her immobolized, none of the others had moved. They just stood, or sat, watching as the drow got his ass kicked.

"And I am not your enemy."

As she said that, the morpher released him and he collapsed, gasping for air and rubbing his throat. Guen, also set loose, bounded over to her friend, standing over him as he lay curled up on the floor. Sab Sab turned, joining her own friends.

"We'll be on our way now," she said, changing again into the form of a human. She nodded to Myrn, who closed his eyes for a moment in consentration. "Just remember, as you more than anyone else should know, drow, that appearances mean nothing."

The air thinned as the rift formed once more. Then they were gone, and Drizzt and Guen were alone in the cave, the only proof that the visitors had been there being his aching throat and a few drops of drying cat-man blood.

"And you're sure that crazy dude with the red hair and the missing ear and the three-legged dog was telling the truth?"

Leigh glanced irrately at Juu, nodding curtly. "It's the only lead we have."

"Oh," the pyro said. "Right. I forgot how absolutely useless everone else we met was." She lowered her voice, trying to sound like a man. "Well, I'm sure I'da remember if'n any o' them there dark elves showed their blasted faces 'round mah farm, I can tell you that, missy!"

Arachne giggled. "Don't forget that lady in the last town!" she laughed. "That poor chicky just heard the word 'drow' and fainted dead away like she'd seen a ghost."

"It would appear these odd elves have a feircesome reputation," Leigh mused.

"To hear the way the old McGristle brute described the one he saw, you'd have thought they were fire-breathing demons." Juubilee picked a stray peice of breakfast from her teeth. "But they sure died easily enough for us."

"I believe that man is given to exagerating things so his own failures seem negligable," Arachne said with a sigh. "Afterall, compared to the power and evil of the creature he described, a mutilated dog and a torn face seem like battle scars worthy of song and legend."

Juu snorted in disgust. "If only he knew that we knew that they were just like the rest of all you pointy-eared tree-huggers. Fast, powerful magicians and sorcerors, but deffinately mortal." The human noted the silence that greeted her words, and winced. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to remind you of the dead."

"No, it's alright," Arachne said, wiping her eyes. "It's good to remember those who are gone."

Juubilee hadn't known it at the time, but one of the three Efeldans that had died to the drow assassins was one of Arachne and Gizelle's cousins. He had only just joined the military as an apprentice swordsman, and had been cut down all too easily by the cold, merciless killers. Juu really wished she had gotten the chance to know him. All she knew was his name was Uldew, and he had only just turned twelve. A child, even in human years.

She was jolted from her reverie by a thought that should have come to her long ago.

"Hey, uh Leigh? Do we even know where Icewind Dale is?"

"...North."

That pause before he answered did nothing to alleviate her fears of becoming lost. "Where up North?"

"Way up North."

"To Alaska?"

"What the heck is an Alaska?"

"I have no idea, just sorta popped into my head... But really, do we truly have any idea whatsoever how to get there?"

"North."

And that was all he was going to say...


	5. Ch 5: Apron-strings

** Chapter Five: Apron-strings**

"Soooooooooo?"

Phelan ignored Myrn's question, reading the message again. "Shit," she muttered, handing it to him. The elf scanned the words for a moment, then nodded.

"I agree whole-heartedly. But watch that mouth of yours, missy."

"Fine then, Shitake mushrooms. That better?"

"A little," he folded the letter up. "So, Arachne went to Toril herself to get some answers. This..."

"Complicates things?"

"Yeah, if you wanna win the understatement of the year award."

"What do we do now?"

"Now... we talk to Chief."

Phelan stopped in her tracks. "Why?"

"Because," Myrn said, turning around and sounding exasperated. "We need to get an A-okay to go back there again."

"WHY? You, Jay, Yvvy, Sab, Obers... you're ALL ADULTS! Why do ya'll need permission?"

"Oh, so... you don't want to come with?"

"...oh. Right. I'm only fifteen..."

Myrn patted her shoulder in a brotherly way. "Exactly," he said, "and we want you to be able to tag along. So, off to Chief we must go."

"Lead on, scitso."

While Myrn and Phelan went to get permission from Finnigan, the chieftain of the Shedhelms and their kin-tribes, Sab Sab, Kim Kim and Oberon were preparing to go to Imptula. It was where they were from, and it was also where they would find Grala Grala. If they could find her.

Kim Kim leaped effortlessly from the small docking platform to her boat, which was floating a few feet away, bobbing on the river. She waved the other two over impatiently as she adjusted the sails. With a long-suffering sigh, Oberon walked out across the taut rope that held the craft to the platform.

Sab Sab shook her head in amazement at the dwarf's agility. He made it look easy, practically gliding along the narrow bridge without so much as a wobble. Once he was aboard the boat, the morpher untied the rope and jumped across the five foot expanse of water, landing beside Oberon.

"... The others know we're goin' home, right?" she asked Kim.

"If they don't, they will soon enough," the older morpher said with a shrug and a chuckle. Sab rolled her eyes, then flexed her legs, preparing to leap back to land. A thick, stubby hand grasped her shoulder.

"I made sure to tell Arata Shedhelm," Oberon said, nodding. "They all know."

"Thank you," Sab Sab said, flashing him a grateful smile. She turned to Kim. "Jerk-face."

Again, Kim Kim shrugged. "Eh, I have better things to do than tell mortals what I'm up to."

For the second time in as many moments, Sab Sab rolled her eyes. "We're all able to die; thus, we are ALL mortals. We morphers just live a heck of a lot longer. And you are a moron."

"Pfft, whatever." Kim stuck her tongue out, then tossed a bundle of ropes to her sister. "Now shut the gab, and help get this tub down-river to the ship." She glanced at Oberon. "You too, iron-hand."

"Always helping other people, hmmm?"

Myrn shrugged. "I'm not gonna say sorry, and I ain't gonna stop."

"I don't expect you to," Chief laughed. "I'd have better luck telling a fish to walk on dry land. Not going to happen."

"Nope. So, have we got a yes?"

"For Phelan to join you guys on more trips across the planes?" Myrn nodded. "Yes... However," Finnigan added as the two newest tribe members slapped high-fives. "Myrnolius, you are responsible for her well-being."

The elf immediately sobered. "Yes sir."

"Good. Phelan? He's your guardian now, so follow what he tells you, as if he were me."

Phelan pouted slightly, but nodded. "Yessir, wil do."

"Oh, don't look so forlorn," Chief grinned, swatting her lightly. "He's closer to your age, and you're both from Efelda, so he'll understand your point of view better."

"Says you."

Finnigan lifted one eyebrow. "He's a pansy," the werewolf explained. Myrn rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, a pansy that can kick your furry behind from here to Oblivion and back again."

"But not Jason's."

"Jason," Myrn said emphatically, "taught me everything I know about fighting. No farickin' duh I can't beat him. You can't either."

"Not yet," Phelan replied, cracking her knuckles.

The Shedhelm chieftain laid a restraining arm about her shoulders. "Try it, and I doubt you'll be walking down the isle on your wedding day. Maybe with crutches..."

"Or a wheeled chair," Myrn finished. "Don't worry; I'll push you along with care."

At that moment, the door to the cheiftain's meeting hut burst open and Jason and Wynded Shedhelm came barreling in. Myrn side-stepped just in time to avoid being dragged down with the younger cat-man, whom Jason threw to the ground with an infuriated yowl.

"What the heck!" Wynded snarled, probing a loose tooth with his tongue. "What are you so mad about?!"

"Who's mad?!" Jason shouted back at his younger brother. "I'm as calm as-"

"A rabid wolverine."

Jason spun around at the sound of the chief's voice, bowing slightly in apology. "Sorry, Chief. My father told me to take Wynd to you for punishment."

"What has he done this time?" Finnigan asked, his one eye widening. The Shedhelm brothers answered at the same time:

"I didn't do nothin'!"

"He was caught sneaking off to the woods with Jessi."

"Jessi? That twelve year-old girl with the brown ear-tufts?" Finnigan asked in surprise.

"Yes."

"Wynd," Chief said, turning to face him in exasperation. "You're fifteen. Show some sense." Wynded responded by rolling his eyes, muttering something about going to Hades, and Phelan started marching toward him with her hands clenched into fists. Myrn held her back, watching Finnigan's face. It was livid.

One instant, Wynded was rolling his eyes, the next he was off the ground, Chief gripping the front of his shirt, holding him three feet in the air with one hand. "Are you ready to get married?" the older cat-man asked threateningly. "Because that is what courting is for. To prepare for marriage."

"N-no sir," the miscreant gasped. "Not yet."

"Then don't court."

With that, Chief let go and Wynded fell back to the ground. Then, as the boy scooted away from him, he scratched his chin thoughtfully. Myrn started to get a sinking feeling, and felt like he might vomit. Instead, he turned to the chieftain and crossed his arms defiantly.

"Nuh-uh."

Chief looked at him with an expression of absolute innocence. "Nuh-uh what, Shrell?"

"I've already gotta deal with Phelan being tied to my apronstrings, I ain't gonna be babysitting that brat too."

"Oh really now?"

"Yes, really. Give me an ultimatum between that and leaving the clan, and I'll go pack my stuff right now. I am NOT babysittin' him!"

"When did I ever say such a thing?" Finnigan inquired, looking hurt.

"You were thinking it."

Chief chuckled and slapped the disgruntled elf on the back. "Relax. I know you couldn't handle it." Myrn nodded and he laughed before finishing his statement. "We don't want Wynd to end up as fish bait. Not yet, anyway," he added, casting a glare in said cat-boy's direction.

Jason butted into the conversation. "Got a good leather belt with a heavy buckle?" he asked. "I'm pretty sure I can give my little brother a licking he won't soon forget."

"Like I just said, Jason: we don't want to be using him as fish chow any time soon."

"Damn," Phelan muttered. "I was looking forward to it. Fresh water sharks love cat meat."

Underneath a copse of old pines, in the realm of Faerun in the world of Toril, two long-eared elves and a pyromaniac human were eating just that. Arachne had shot the large wild-cat prowling about in the shadows near-by, noting that it was following them and had been doing so for several hours. Unfamiliar with the wild-life of this world, she had not hesitated, fearing it may actually be hunting them for its own dinner. Indeed, the creature was larger than Leigh, the tallest, and weighed several times as much as any of them.

Rather than let it go to waste, Juubilee had promptly sliced off a large hunk of the meat, wrapping it in a cloth and placed it into her bag. "I've always wanted to try roasting a kitty," she said as she slung the sack over her shoulder again. Leaving the rest of the large feline to nature, the trio continued walking north. Way up north...

Juubilee giggled as the small fire spat and hissed. "Looks like its gotten that kitty's attitude," she said as she skewered a chunk of meat on a long stick and placed it into the flames.

"Don't you mean, cat-itude?" Arachne asked from across the glowing flames.

Leigh snorted. "Like we haven't heard that one before," he said. He tensed at the sensation of something crawling up his spine. Something with eight legs. "Arachne, get it off," he whispered. "You know I hate spiders."

"That's not a spider," the girl replied, pointing to his shoulder, where the crawling had finally come to rest. Turning his head, Leigh nearly let out a shriek.

Claws clicking, tail waving, the scorpion was the thing of Leigh's nightmares. The barb at the end of its segmented tail was dripping with venom, and its many eyes seemed to regard everything around it with calculating malice. The elf knew better than to move.

"Oh, tsk tsk," Arachne said, hands on her hips. "Stop being such a baby, Leigh. It's just a harmless little thing."

"Harmless?" he asked in disbelief. His eyes hadn't left that poison sting. "It's a freaking scorpion!"

"Yes," Arachne conceded. "But you've got me."

Without fear, the girl held out her hand, laying it on Leigh's arm. The scorpion scuttled down from his shoulder, happily crawling across Arachne's fingers, over her palm, then up her arm to her own shoulder and finally her head. "See?" she said, stroking it's back with one finger. "Nothing to fear."

"Except getting on your bad side," Juu quiped, tearing off a bite of charred cat meat. Arachne just smiled, still petting the scorpion.


	6. Ch 6: Everybody Facepalm!

** Chapter Six: Everybody Facepalm!**

Bruenor Battlehammer, chief of the dwarves of Icewind Dale, was none too pleased. He didn't like the fact that seven beings from another plane had been able to simply pop into and then pop out of his territory. He did't like it at all. And he wasn't all that happy about the fact that Drizzt, the greatest swordsman he had ever come across, hadn't stood a chance against one of them. One. A single... what was that word again?... ah, yes; morpher.

A changeling creature unlike anything he'd ever heard of. The dwarf was certain the extra-planers were not to be trusted. But then again, he had thought the same of the drow once, and now they were good friends. Argh, why couldn't things just be as simple as battle, where it was simply kill or be killed? Life would be so much easier.

One thing was for sure though: if any of the outsiders came back... they'd be ready. Ready for anything. Drizzt had been caught off guard. It wouldn't happen again. And the dwarves would be on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing was going to get past them. Nothing.

Not even a solitary cat-girl sneaking around...

Yvonne crouched behind the crate, waiting for the pair of dwarves to pass by. She had hitched a ride back to Fearun in order to get a head start on looking for Arachne, but something had gone wrong. Now she was seperated from her companion, alone in an under ground complex, its vastness bogling to her mind. She had been trying for several hours to find her way out. All she found were dwarves, countless chambers and caverns, and yet more dwarves. It was like a game of cat and mouse. And the cat was on the loosing side.

It was only a matter of time before she lost.

"Row row row your boat gently down the stream, merrily merrily merrily merrily, life is but a dream!" Oberon sang, belting out the tune like his life depended on it. Laughing, Sab Sab joined in, changing the words a little to get her point across:

"Throw throw throw the dwarf in the frothing stream, gurgley gurgley gurgley gurgley, hear his drowning scream!"

Oberon threw his hands in the air. "Alright, alright! I get it. No more singing that song. Although," he added, casting her a sly glance. "I swim like a duck."

"Literally," the morpher giggled. "It's hilarious to watch!"

Kim Kim, standing at the "Whirly-thingy" (the ship's wheel) used one hand to sheild her eyes as she looked out across the vast expanse of water. Undellas, the ocean seperating Divishre, the small continent they were leaving, and Imptula, was blue. Midnight blue. It was like sailing across a vast sapphire, stretching from horrizon to horrizon and beyond. It was one of the most beautiful sights anyone could hope to behold.

But the older morpher was paying no head to the sights. Narrowing her eyes, and changing them so they worked like binoculars, she peered to the east. There it was; land. And not just any land. Imptula.

Drizzt followed Cattie Brie through the tunnels and caverns to Bruenor. The dwarf had sent his daughter to get him, saying that they had caught one of the extra-planers trying to slip past a couple of guards. All he had said was that it was a 'she', and the drow wondered which 'she' it was. Hopefully neither of the morphers.

Cattie Brie was excited. "Da' wouldn't let me see her," she said. "Probably thinks its too dangerous for me." She pouted and looked up at Drizzt. "When ye're done, can ye tell me all abou' her an' the rest o' them?"

Drizzt smiled down at the twelve year old girl, so much like her adopted father. "Aye."

Yvonne glanced up as the dark elf walked into the room, seemingly hearing his silent footfalls. Of all the expressions a prisoner could make, she grinned. "So nice to see you again," she purred. "Myrn literally slapped himself upside the head. The information he imparted to you was faulty."

"Information?" Drizzt asked, tilting his head as he shut the door behind him.

"About the Spider Daedra. He rechecked his notes, and found that they share kinship with the Daedric prince Maphala. Mehrunes just so happens to have a whole lot of 'em at his beck and call."

"...You came all the way back here, just to tell me that?" The drow said, incredulous.

"What? Pfft. No," Yvonne licked the back of one hand, rubbing it against her cheek. "No way would I waste the energy 'walking' requires, just to make the psycho sleep better."

"Then what are ye doin' here?" Bruenor demanded, his arms crossed over his barrel-chest. His patience was wearing thin.

"Getting a head start on the others," The cat-girl replied, grooming the other side of her face. "Arachne came to this world looking for answers of her own, and we're trying to find her. Before she runs into too much trouble."

"Arachne? That's the lass ye claim ta be the queen o' spiders."

"...Well, it fits," Yvonne shrugged. "Not absolutely possitive that she is. Yet."

"And what if she is?" Drizzt asked.

Yvonne shrugged again. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there. First though, we have got to find her."

"We?"

"Yeah. Me an' the rest. And you all," she said, spreading out her arms. "If you'd be willing to help." She rested one hand on her hip. "Any rumors reach up here about it? She's with another elf, named Liegh, and a human Pyro-maniac-mage called Juubilee."

"Suren none that I've heard about," Bruenor replied. Drizzt noted that his gruff manner had softened a little. It was beginning to disturb him.

"Mmmmmm..." Yvonne tapped one claw against her chin thoughtfully. "Well, I guess I'll have to be checking Ten Towns. Thanks."

Drizzt blocked her path, standing in front of the door. He had just remembered, or so it seemed, that she and the others had made him feel comepletely at ease, even though they had suddenly appeared in his dwelling. Not to mention the fact that one of them was a were-wolf, and two were "morphers". It was not his natural response; he should have been on edge, ready for anything.

"What charms have you cast upon my friend?" he asked, him manner on the verge of being threatening.

"Charms?" The catgirl seemed genuinely confused. "What do you mean?"

"What magic have you used, to set us at ease, to dull our wits?"

"I don't use magic, elf," Yvonne growled. "I don't even know how. If I have 'dulled your wits', it ain't through design."

"Maybe it's just because we are guileless," came a voice from behind. "For the most part."

Drizzt recognized the voice. He turned his head a little, so he could see over his shoulder, as well as keep Yvonne in view, surprised that anyone could get so close without him knowing it. Myrnolius grinned back at him, cheerful as ever.

"How did you avoid getting caught?" Yvonne huffed, crossing her arms. "There were dwarves at every turn!"

"They were all busy looking for you," her pointy-eared comrade said, shrugging innocently.

"Not fair," the catgirl pouted. Myrn blew a raspberry. Yvonne reached around Drizzt and smacked him. Hard. "Brat."

"An' what's this quasi-elf doin' here too?"

"What quasi-elf?" Myrn asked, turning around to look behind him, wondering if another person had shown up. "Ain't Drizzt a full blooded drow?"

Yvonne looked from Drizzt, who was standing there impassively, to Myrn, who was still wondering if there was another arrival he hadn't noticed.

"Do you mean Myrn?" she asked, turning to Bruenor.

"Ayuh, the pale one. I take it he be a friend o' yers." Yvonne nodded her affirmation.

"... I'm not a false-elf," Myrnolius said, his eyebrows rising in surprise. "I'm totally long-ear."

Bruenor scowled, stepping up to him. He grabbed the front of the elf's shirt, pulling him down to his eye level. "Yer ears are too long, nearly twice the length o' any elf I've ever heard tell of... an' yer eyes aren't nearly as slanted as they ought ta be."

"... Cool," Myrn actually purred. "I'm a freak. Whatever." He straightened up suddenly. "Anyone ever seen a selkie?"

Yvonne facepalmed. "Oh, not again." She laid a restraining hand on her friend's shoulder. "No, Myrn. They don't have selkies here-"

"What about selkies?" the elf asked, thoroughly confused. "Who said anything about seal-people?"

Yvonne shut her eyes and shook her head, refraining from saying 'you did, you moron.'

"Lawds, it happened again, didn't it?"

The catgirl cracked one eye open and looked at him. "Yep," she said. It was his turn to facepalm.

"Damn."


	7. Ch 7: Poetry in (emo)motion

**Chapter Seven: Poetry in (emo)motion**

Phelan scratched behind one ear absentmindedly, sketching a butterfly in her journal. Yes, journal. No one who didn't want their brains bashed in called her heart-embellished, pink leather note-book a 'diary'. To do so was to have a death wish.

Not even Lycaon would do something so foolish. The half-werewolf had learned that the hard way. He rubbed his back, where ahe had smacked him repeatedly with her bow (which, by the way, was bright pink). And she liked him. As in like liked him. A lot. The attraction was mutual. And she STILL beat the crap out of him!

"Where's your mother hen?" he asked, sitting down next to her. Phelan didn't look up, her attention riveted on the intricate patterns she was drawing in the butterfly's wings.

"Toril. Yvonne needed a ride."

"Well, why is Jason here then? Aren't those two sibs inseperable?"

"Oh, Jay has some... business to settle with Wynd at the moment."

"Wynd... and Jessi?"

"No duh."

"Guess we'd best not be seen together. Heavens forbid Chief should find out!"

"Chief knew as soon as he saw us returning from Imptula together. Wynd's just a moron."

Lycaon made his signature grimace. "Can't argue with that..." he peered over her shoulder. "The antenae are too short."

"Well maybe they got cut off," Phelan growled, covering the picture with her sleeve.

Lycaon held up he hands. "Okay, okay! I'll mind my own business!" His eyes twinkled. "But it's spelled B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L, not buetaful."

WHAM! The journal connected with his shoulder. "I spell it however I wanna spell it in my journal!" Phelan said, each word punctuated by a hard smack with the book. "You keep your eyes outta it!"

Lycaon laughed. Such blows would have hurt a normal man, (would have knocked Myrn to the ground!) but he was a half-werewolf. To him it was like getting hit by a little kid with a pillow. Of course, phelan wasn't actually trying to injure him. If she had... Then he would definately be in pain.

"Will you be coming with when we all go back?" the werewolf girl asked once she had vented her frustration.

Lycaon shook his head. "No. I need to work on clearing the acre of land. I have to be ready if I hope to be allowed to court."

Phelan blushed, hugging her journal to herself. "True."

Lycaon leaned forward, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. "I will be ready."

_These creatures are strange. I feel no ill intent, no unease in their presense, and this frightens me. Yes, I am frightened. So far I have been able to hide my fear, to face them with all the stoicism I have learned through the years, but it is still there. I will not let my guard down again. _

_Perhaps I am being too cynical. Perhaps these outsiders really are as they claim, just simple, goodly folk with no dark secrets about them. Perhaps; but I dare not go about blindly believing in their good will. The one called Myrnolius... I find him most disturbing. Something is not right about him. He is... dark, I believe. As dark as my own black skin. A happy exterior, but I fear there is malice hidden behind the cheerful smile. _

_ Malice, darkness, and... death. _

Drizzt watched the two conversing with each other, then Bruenor, then again with each other. The more he saw, the more he was confused. Then the one that claimed he was an elf said something about these beings called selkies, and the next instant didn't have any recollection of it.

He grew more confused, and increasingly ill-at-ease. His hands itched to reach for his scimitars. His whole body itched to get rid of the threat he almost percieved. He did not know why he felt this way; it was not normal. Every nerve screamed at him to attack, to defend his home and his friends, but there was no logic to it. The new-comers had shown no hostility, save for when he had attacked the morpher, and even then they had been calm and unvengeful. Indeed, they were friendly... perhaps too friendly.

Myrn looked over at him and Drizzt quickly came out of his reverie. Regardless of what his instinct told him to do, he was a creature of reason, and he would not be inhospitable unless the outsiders became a real threat.

"Did I really ask about selkies?" the odd elf asked. He looked worried.

"Yes, you asked if we knew about selkies," Drizzt confirmed with a nod. Myrn's ears drooped, the tips nearly touching his shoulders, and the drow had to stop his eyes from widening in surprise. Bruenor didn't seem to notice.

"Crap," Myrnolius said, rubbing his face with one hand. "Sorry about that. To tell ya'll the truth, I'm technically insane... Technically."

"Wow, Mr. Blunt," Yvonne muttered. "Gonna shout it to the whole world?" She turned to address Drizzt, then Bruenor. "He's quite lucid. It's just that sometimes his mind goes blank and he'll say or do something totally random or uncalled for. And he won't remember anything about it..." Her eyes narrowed. "He's not really insane. Only technically speaking."

Bruenor snorted. "I never said I had a problem with crazies. Just so long as he don't start killing people or the like."

Myrn looked hurt. "I'm not a sociopath."

"So, uh, any place in the ten towns of tundra-land recomended in particular as a good place to start?" Yvonne asked, clasping her hands. "Really oughtn't be wasting no time in hearing what rumors and what not are circulating."

Bryn Shander. In a word, big. Not as big as the City of Imitu in Imptula, but still big. Yvonne could only describe it as immense. Myrn nodded dumbly, sticking close to her as they walked down the street.

"Jason should be ready by now, right?"

Yvonne glanced back at him. "Probably... Getting uncomfortable?"

"Horribly," Myrn mumbled. "So many people... The walls are closing in. Can you say 'panic attack just waiting to happen'?"

"No, I am completely and utterly incapable of saying that phrase," the catgirl replied, rolling her eyes. Her tone softened. "Is it seriously that bad?"

Another dumb nod. She noted that her pal was staring at the ground, avoiding looking at all the strange faces that crowded the city. "Then go back."

Myrn lifted his head and cocked one eyebrow. "And leave you alone in this city of rogues? Not likely."

Yvonne waved off his concern. "Egh, I've seen worse on missions. I can handle myself... I don't think you can. Go back home, and send Jason over. Tell 'im to just look for me at one of the inns... I'm sure this place has a couple."

Myrn thought for a moment, then nodded. A few people had been eye-ing them oddly, because they had never seen a cat-person before. A whole lot more noticed when the elf suddenly vanished from sight, without mouthing a spell. Yvonne shrugged off the stares, continuing down the street with all the gracefull confidence only a cat could posess.

"I'm afraid I'll never be the same again, so hello Mr. Corner, you're my only friend."

"Are you quite done with the emo poems?" Leigh asked, turning his head just enough to cast Juu a lethal glare.

"Nope," the pyro replied, launching into another rhyme about cutting her wrists and crying in the corner of a gloomy room. Arachne grinned mischieviously.

"After, 'cold and tears my heart doth break, when from this sorrow will I wake?', you should say: 'Let me roast that haughty dude, who scorned my poetry like such a prude.'"

"Hillarious." Leigh muttered, his voice bland. "I'm sure people will come from miles around to listen to such great bards."

"And when they do, you'll be thinking long and hard on all the mean remarks you've ever made," Arachne said with an innocent smile. "While Juu makes everyone cry and cut themselves."

Juubilee made an exagerated bow, then clasped her hands and started shaking them above her head like a reigning champ. "Thank you, thank you! As always, a special shout-out to all my enemies who made such music possible."

Leigh looked up to the sky, begging for the patience to deal with his companions. This was going to be a looooooooooooong trip.


	8. Ch 8: Almost a Bar Fight!

_**Yo! So, yeah, this is not an actual part of the story. Just an author to audience chat. So, as you've probably noticed already, I'm an amateur when it comes to R. A. Salvatores awesome-sauce masterpiece of a series. I have only read up to Streams of Silver, so please don't send Artemis to assassinate me. (Why does he have a girl's name, by the way?) I'm doing the best I can with my limited knowledge!**_

_**The same goes to all you Elder Scrolls fans. I'm SORRY! ...if I screw anything up too badly. Again, don't send anyone to end my pathetic life. The Dark Brotherhood and the Morag Tong have better things to waste their time on, I'm sure.**_

_**If you like, hate, or are totally blah about this story, please review. I'd love to hear from ya'll, and can really use the advice. To those who are wondering, my real story is very near to being done. You shall hopefully have your hands on a copy of it before too long. **_

_**Also, this story is pretty clean. The only reason I'm rating it mature (aside from the fact that I'm more paranoid than Sil,) is that the characters aren't being *Bleep*ed.**_

_**Thank-you!**_

**Chapter Eight: Almost a Bar Fight!**

Jason looked around the room. It was dark, smoky, and it reeked of ale and unwashed people. Perfect place for him and his sister, he thought sarcastically. Sitting across the booth from Yvonne, he crossed his ankles and leaned back in the bench of the booth, arms behind his head as a pillow. He watched the people, mostly humans with a few halflings (if he remembered right, that's what he'd heard the pipsqueaks called) and dwarfs tossed in for good measure. His eyes were half closed, but his sharp feline ears caught all the conversation.

In a more lady-like posture, Yvonne was doing the same. So far they had heard a great deal about orcs, various women, and the outrageous accounts of a couple of drunken adventurers. The usual tavern-garble.

The barmaid came over and set two mugs of weak mead on the table, for which the siblings thanked her politely. Of course, they had only ordered it to give them a viable excuse for loitering around. They couldn't stand alcohal. At least, not mead. Beer was fine, but mead was just... yech.

"Interesting," Yvonne whispered with a sly wink at her brother. "It never ceases to amaze me how open and brash people can be about the most embarrassing of things... When their tongues have been loosed," she added with a sidelong glance at the weakened mead in-front of her.

Jason returned the wink. "I just heard about a man who seems to have two wives, neither of them knowing about the other."

"The perverted swine. Hope they find out soon. I'd love to see him try and squirm his way out of that one."

"Me too," the catman purred. "That would be most entertaining."

Luckily, the cat people were of a slight enough build that their confident manner did not catch the attention of the 'beer-bellied-bar-bullies' as they called the reigning champions of taverns. Of course, the brutes could never hope to match them in single combat, but they didn't want to get in too much trouble with the local guard. And bullies seldom fought one-on-one.

To say the least, they were a little surprised when said brute, slobbering and smelly as any, did take notice of them. Or, to be more accurate, took notice of Yvonne. A loud, grating wolf-whistle from across the room caused the cats to flinch and press their sensitive ears flat against their heads. While they were recovering from the unpleasant noise, the offender came lumbering, like a barrel of mead on two legs, over to their table.

Yvonne let out a despairing sigh and covered her face with her hands as the champion of 'The Flowing Mug', loomed over her, leaning heavily on the back of her booth-seat. Great, she thought, getting a good wiff of his intoxicated breath. Just what this day needed. A perv AND a drunkard.

Jason, on the other hand, seemed unperturbed by the sight of the thick lipped, thick bellied, thick headed, (thick everythinged!) man towering over his sister, obviously with dishonorable things on his filthy mind. After all, with a body that covered in greasy grime, how could his mind be any cleaner?

Yvonne took a deep breath to calm herself, having to refrain from gagging as said inhalation filled her mouth with the man's stench, and reached for her mug. Across the table, Jason did likewise, even taking a sip of the watered down, though still potent, liquid. A silent, barely perceptible wink passed between the siblings.

Yvonne turned her head, flashing her unwanted admirer her most charming smile, and then-

SPLASH!

With the big man momentarily blinded by mead in his eyes, Jason and Yvonne made a beeline for the door, leaping over a dwarf that had just entered, and dashed out into the street. Rather than try and get lost in the crowd, they turned around to face the front of the building. Inch-long claws sank into the weathered wood, and within seconds the two cat people sat side by side on the wooden awning over the door.

Just as expected, the lecherous meat-head stumbled out into the open, looking all about for the little freaks that had thrown cheap mead in his face. They could hear him going on and on about what he was going to do with them once he got his hands on their furry little hides, and had to cover their mouths to keep from laughing out loud as he floundered about, looking everywhere for them. That is, everywhere but up.

Nearly an hour passed, but finally their pursuer gave up and trundled back into the bar, no doubt with a grand story to tell his cronies about how he pulverized the kitties. Slipping down from their perch, Jason and Yvonne headed down the street once again, looking for another place to hunker down and pick up the small talk...

Juubilee lay on the dusty ground, blood pooling around the shapeless mound of gory pulp that had once been her head. Arachne was freaking out, screaming at him incoherently in her rage, pulling out her feather-shaped dagger to stab him. Leigh just stood there smiling blissfully, listening to the sweet sound of Juu's eternal silence...

Alas, it was only a day dream. Leigh sighed, utterly miserable, and clenched his hands at his sides, trying not to blow up at his obnoxious traveling companions. Especially Juubilee. Arachne he could handle; she was just a little bit giggly and hyper, constantly smiling. She smiled so much in fact, that he wondered if her face was frozen that way. He knew he had never seen her eyes opened more than a crack, and he was sure that was because her cheeks pushed them closed- again from all the smiling.

Juu, on the other hand, was another story entirely.

For one thing, Leigh had never heard her shut up. Oh, he'd heard her stop talking, but not stop making noise of some sort. If she wasn't talking, she was singing. If you got her to stop singing, she'd start humming. Or making clicking sounds with her tongue, or pop the air from her cheeks, or make animal noises- with limited success. And if, by some miracle, you got her to cease all that, she'd stomp her feet, or crack her knuckles, or make farting sounds with her ARMPITS!

Yes, Leigh was one miserable elf, and he couldn't wait until they finally got up to Icewind Dale and the answers they were looking for. Hopefully.

"Okay," Jason said, stifling a yawn. "What did we learn today that was any help at all?"

Yvonne scratched her chin, looking around at the darkened streets as the sun sank well beyond the horrizon. "... All I can think of is what that one midget with the furry feet thing-"

"Halfling."

"- Halfling, was saying about a trio of peepers apparently trying to find their way to this place of eternal frost. He heard it from a friend, who heard it from a friend, who heard it from another that someone in Waterdeep was asked for directions to a place where some guy called Gristle Micky, or whatever, was said to have run into a drow and lost one of his dog's legs."

"Which, I'm guessing, is this place," Jason said, after making a show of trying to keep his brain from exploding from all the complicated information trails. "And I'd betcha that trio has got Arachne in it."

"More than likely," Yvonne agreed. The two cats slipped into the shadows beside the inn where they had first begun their search. With no-one the wiser as to their where abouts, they greeted their ride, and a few moments later they vanished from the face of Toril.


	9. Ch 9: Isle of Grala

** Chapter Nine: Isle of Grala**

Kim Kim relished the looks of horror on Oberon and Sab Sab's faces. 'The Kraken' lay at anchor a full hundred yards from the dangerous rocks that wreathed the islet. The shattered, twisted remains of ship wrecks and their crews bore testimony to the lethality of the place. Wood rotted, and bones bleached, and the wind provided an eerie, howling music. It was one of her favorite places in the world.

Strapping her broad-bladed sword to her hip, the elder morpher jumped up onto the railings, stretched languidly, and dove into the dark blue waves. Sab Sab was about to copy her, then remembered Oberon. She took a moment to change her form, then leaped out over the water, flapping her wings and using the updrafts of the sea to give her lift. Oberon raised his arms over his head, and she caught them as she swooped over the ship, lifting him into the air with her.

Needless to say, Sab and Oberon beat Kim Kim to the small island where Grala Grala made her home. They waited on the blue sand until the other morpher finally emerged from the sea, sopping wet. Together, they entered the cave into the massive spire of the mountain that crowned the islet...

The ancient creature sensed that something was approaching. Joints creaking with age like an unoiled door, it rose slowly from its chair and hobbled to the circular room's ring of windows. Over to the western side of the island, a ship bobbed on the waves. Squinting and turning its head every which way, the elderly being made out the overall shape of the craft. Nearly squealing in delight, it lurched back to its chair and rang a bell.

"So?"

"We walked into a bar. Jason didn't see it."

Chief laughed briefly. "Funny, Yvonne. Really, what have you learned?"

"That meat-fisted pudden-heads can be very scary."

Jason took the hint in Chief's dangerously narrowed eye and answered for his sister. "Well, we won't do any good going back any time soon. Arachne is on her way up to Icewind, but it will take a while, and if we were to go and try to find her, we'd probably all just get lost."

"Especially if you had me for your guide," Myrn piped up. No-one argued. He had a notoriously screwed up sense of direction.

"So, you're all just going to free-load untill then?"

"Since when have we been freeloaders?" Jason asked, his voice thick with mock hurt.

"Since the day you were born..." their chieftain replied, grinning mischeviously. "Now, seeing as you don't have any death-defying, high-adventures at the moment... Care to do some actual work?"

Sab Sab nearly took the head from the creature's shoulders. With a frightened shriek, it fell back from her, pressing itself against the wall. It was a small lizardperson, apparently female, and very young. Sab immediately changed her blade back into a hand.

"I'm sorry," she said, crouching down and offering her non-bladed hand. The reptilian child scooted away from the morpher, then pushed herself up, a good couple of yards from Sab Sab.

Kim chuckled. "Sorry, sis. I forgot to mention the servants."

"Like hell you did," Oberon snarled. "You sadistic bitch."

Kim Kim's smile did nothing to clear her of the title. Sab Sab gave her a disgusted, pitying look, then drew back from the lizardgirl. She didn't want to frighten her any more.

"Grala Grala is waiting for you," the little girl said. She was doing an amazing job of calming down. "At the top... If you'll follow me-"

Kim rudely brushed past. "Come on, you two! I've been here plenty of times before; I know the way."

"Thank you," Oberon said to the lizard with a smile. "But it seems we don't require your time." He hurried to catch up, or at least keep Kim in sight. Sab leaned down.

"I'm sorry," she said, still feeling guilty for her rash attack. "Thank you."

The little lizardperson only nodded in reply, then vanished through a hidden door in the tunnel. Sab cast the cleverly concealed portal a curious glance, then scurried after her friend. And her sister.

Grala Grala was indeed old. She was so old in fact that she could nolonger morph, and was instead continuously in her true form; a stooped, wrinkled morpher with blotchy pink skin. Amazingly, the audacious Kim bowed in respect.

"Ah, Kimmy," The elderly lady said, hobbling over. She wrapped her stringy arms about the younger morpher, giving her a grandmotherly hug. Followed by a grandmotherly kiss. Yep. Slobbery. "And you brought friends?"

"Aquaintance, please," Oberon muttered. Grala Grala cupped a hand to her ear. "I said 'A pleasure to meet you," the dwarf said, raising his voice a little. The morph-mother giggled.

"I heard you the first time," she said with a wink. "I'm not deaf. I take it you and Kimmy don't get along too well... Oberon Rhondrihr."

Oberon only smiled. Grala Grala was far more knowledgable than she let on, that much was clear. Much like a certain other someone he could think of...

Sab Sab beat Grala to the hug. It wasn't grandmotherly. It was more akin to a boa constrictor. With arms.

"Three guesses," she said, letting go. "And the first two don't count."

Grala squinted at her for a few moments, seeming genuinely stumped. Then she smiled brightly. "Little Sab?" she gasped. "Sab Sab!"

Sab nodded, but her smile was tainted with a hidden sadness. Too many memories, many of them painful, had happened in the past hundred years for her to be 'little Sab'. She wasn't the child that had once sat on Grala's floor, pretending to understand the stories she told the older kids. At that age, she had been far more interested in playing with the sea-monkies the morph-mother kept for company. Stories of adventure, love, and betrayl were beyond her comprehension.

Grala Grala watched the youngest of her race closely, then shook her head, pretending not to have noticed. She gestured to the low table that occupied the center of the room. "Please, have a seat. Join me," she said. Oberon offered his arm, and she chirped happily, leaning on his shoulder like a cane. "Height difference, deary," she whispered. The dwarf blushed, embarressed that he had forgotten he was too short to offer his arm.

Grala sank down onto the soft cushions at the head of the table, with all the grace of a far younger person, and gestured for her guests to do likewise. Once they were all seated, she nodded towards the door, and the lizardgirl from before, who had apparently followed them in, bowed slightly and scampered out.

"Sharla," Grala Grala said, nodding at the closing door. "She is my servant... and my heir. I have raised her from infancy, and have watched her closely. Her heart is pure, and she strives to please. She will be a good mistress of this isle when I am gone."

"Her?" Kim Kim said, raising an eye-brow. She was in the guise of an androginous human with sea-green hair and eyes. "But she is not a morpher."

"And Sheogorath is not a Deadra."

Kim Kim was silent, thinking on that. Finally, she nodded. "Aye. Not anymore."

"A new era arises," Grala Grala murmured as Sharla reappeared, carrying a tray of glasses and a pitcher. "Be it for good or ill, that is up to those involved to decide. The fates have a lot on their plate as it is..." she lifted her glass, taking a sip of the clear wine. "How do you plan to change the path of events?"


	10. Ch 10: How It Came To Be

**Chapter Ten: How It Came To Be **

"Hey!"

Myrn didn't even bother looking up, continuing to hack away at the earth. "You too," he said, removing yet another shovelful of dirt from the shallow trench. "Are ya gonna be wanting a basement, or just above ground?"

"Above ground, two levels, with a cellar a few yards away," Lycaon said. He grabbed the shovel from the elf's hands. "But it's my concern, not yours. Thank you."

Myrn shrugged, swinging himself up out of the excavation site. "Whatever. But ya know, it ain't something you've gotta do alone."

"What do you mean? Of course it is. I've got to get it done, by myself, to show that I am ready to wed. Isn't that the tradition of the Shedhelms?"

"Yes, and no. It's also costomary for friends to help each other."

"And who told you we're friends?"

"A little birdy."

"Heh heh. Sure it wasn't that skunk that's been hanging around your place?"

Myrn's eyes widened. "What skunk?"

Lycaon gestured vaguely. "I saw a skunk slinking around under your porch yesterday." He held out the shovel. "Weapon?"

"Yep," Myrn said, grabbing it. "Nothing like a skunk with its head bashed in. I will be back though, so don't think you're going to send me on a wild skunk chase in the hopes that I won't."

The half-werewolf crossed his fingers over his heart. "Never lie, never be lied to. Trust is mutual."

"...Yeppers," the long-ear agreed, loping off towards his own house. "I'll show you the pelt... after I sew it into a sack!"

Lycaon shook his head in mild disbelief before taking up his own shovel. "Weirdo."

"Do you really believe that I am the queen of spiders?" Grala Grala asked incredulously. "What makes you think that?"

"The stories you used to tell," Kim Kim said, twirling one of her choptwigs. "That you could once call and control, even communicate with, spiders and their ilk."

Grala nodded slowly, her eyes almost closed. "How do you know they weren't just that- stories?"

Oberon and Sab Sab shared an uncertain glance. Kim continued to stare at the polished wood of the table. If Grala Grala was not who they had thought... then they had no idea as to what they were going to do.

The morph-mother watched them for a few moments, chewing pensively on a piece of eel, her bright eyes flickering from one to the other. Finally, she cleared her throat and spoke.

"It is true. I am the 'godess' of arachnids. Or I used to be..." Her guests paid attention to her every word, and she settled in to tell them the whole story of how it had come to pass...

"When I was yet young, long before any of your grandfathers had entered this world, I decided that I wanted to travel, to explore the lands beyond Undellas. And I did. From mountain, to swamps, to plains, to glaciers, I saw them all. And when I thought that there was no more to be seen, and I was about to return to the midnight waves, I found... it.

"A sceptor. A short staff, carved from I know not what, with an onyx spider set atop it. I was deep with in the Migue swamps at the time, and I figured I'd take it back to Imptula with me as a suvenier. I was wrong. The instant I touched it, the spider at the top of the staff wrapped four of its legs around my wrist. I tried to morph, but could not, could not get loose. And I felt its fangs sink into my flesh. I could feel the venom coursing through my veins, burning and cooling, frightening and calmng all at once. And I heard a voice inside of my head, a voice I knew belonged to no mortal.

"'I name you as my vicar. As a queen below me, mayhaps beside me. I am the Web Spinner, Maphala, the goddess whose sphere is obscured to mortals. To you I give a taste of my powers, that you may bring knowledge of me to this world. Serve me well, mortal.'"

"And just like that, it was gone. I had heard of Maphala before. To the best of my knowledge at the time, she was a Deadric Prince, from the voids of Oblivion, and that she was notorious for interfering in the affairs of mortals for her amusement. But as to what one of her artifacts was doing in Terra, I haven't really the slightest. In either case, I was, for a while, under her command. I followed her. I did her bidding. I am ashamed to admit it, but I aided in her various intrigues, though for the most part her reach is very limited in this world. Eventually, I learned just how limited her reach really is.

"I was not the first, and I certaintly wouldn't be the last of Maphala's advocates with the title of Spider Queen, but I learned something during my years of service to her. She relied on fear, my fear that she could turn her powers upon me if I ever ceased to follow her commands. Besides that, she really had no hold over me, because, as I already stated, her dominion over Terra is incredibly small."

"So, you left her," Sab Sab said, guessing at what Grala Grala was about to say. The elderly morpher nodded.

"Yes. I left her. And I retained my powers as the Spider Queen. And I was content to find this isle, and to make my home away from others. I don't know if it was because of the spider's venom, or just my adventurous, if short, life in the world... but I longed for solitude. And then, she came.

"I knew what she was, since I had served as a tool of Maphala's for so long, but I had never seen one quite like this. Her name was Lolith. She was a Spider Daedra, but much, much larger, and she gave off an aura of power that was almost on par with that of the Daedric Princes. But she wanted more. We fought, she and I battling each other with magic, with sheer strength, with trickery learned from Boethiah, as well as the mother of all web-spinners... and I lost. I nearly died. In fact, I am possitive that Lolith believed I was, otherwise she would have certainly finished me off.

"Lolith stole the staff. She had already been parading herself as The Spider Queen, the goddess of chaos, etc., for several thousand years; but she wanted that artifact of Maphala so that her transformation into a diety would be complete and undeniable. But she only got the staff. The spider carving had disconnected from its perch some years before, and I had never gotten around to gluing it back on... thank goodness that was so."

Oberon snapped his fingers. "So, you've still got that? Cool! That means Lolith doesn't really have all the strength she thinks she does!"

"Well, yes and no," Grala said, taking another sip from her cup. "Lolith doesn't have all the power of a true Daedric Prince... but I don't have the spider. Not anymore. I gave that away."

Three heads turned her way. Six eyes stared at her with unblinking intensity. "I gave it to a little baby several years ago. I was visiting Ishabaac, a little dragon I know, and decided that while I was there, I might as well see Efelda again. You know, the dragons' territory is right next to there... anyway, while I was there, I came across a small celebration. A new child had entered the world, and her family were welcoming her in the traditional elfin way... When I asked what her name was, the mother and father both smiled and pointed. That new-born baby was gurgling as happily as you please, clinging to a drawing of an orb-web spider. 'Arachne', the father said, 'she caught site of Gizelle's creature drawings, and wouldn't let that one go. So, that's what we'll call her; Arachne.'

"I know, it was probably just really stupid superstition on my part... But I gave Arachne the carving of the spider. And do you know what happened? As soon as her chubby little baby fingers closed around it, it changed color. Instead of onyx, it became... mostly onyx, but with bright yellow stripes all across it. Just like the orb-web in the drawing." Grala Grala cleared her throat. "I... I can't help but think that she was truly meant to have it."

Oberon nodded, scratching his hairy chin. "Well, I guess that explains it..."


	11. Ch 11: SHINY!

**Chapter Eleven: SHINY!**

Drizzt strode along his routine patrol with Guen by his side. Just because a few outsiders had appeared, it didn't mean that life suddenly changed its course. There were still monsters out on the tundra, and it was still his job to walk the lands around his new home, stopping these threats. It would continue to be his lot in life for many years to come, he did not doubt. The people of Ten Towns had become less hostile to him since the recent battle with the Barbarians, but he feared that they would never com to truly accept him. Not as they would had his skin not been as black as ebony.

He could never live in Ten Towns, of that he was sure.

Guen nuzzled up against his leg, and he reached down to scratched behind her ears, grateful to her for taking his mind off depressing thoughts. She was his truest friend. From their days in the Underdark, to the first years on the surface, all the way to now, she had been by his side. Forever loyal, forever true.

Drizzt's sharp eyes caught the movement. To his right, its mottled brown coat blending almost perfectly with the summer scenery, a tundra yeti was attempting to close in on him. His scimitars were out in a flash. This was his job.

Trolls had been no problem. Well, at first they had been. Leigh had pelted the creatures with freaking boulders, crushing them under tons of stone, and Arachne had turned them into lumbering pincushions. But they just kept on coming. In fact, whenever a limb was seperated from a body, it just grew back. Into TWO trolls, the one regenerating the limb, and the limb growing a body. It had seemed hopeless.

Until Juubilee took a swig of her 'Welsen Family Secret Brew' (really, REALLY strong whiskey) and spewed it at the beasts. Of course, whenever Juu spat out that stuff, it was ALWAYS accompanied by fire. And trolls and fire didn't mix- they ignited.

"And THAT, my long-eared friends, is called a Drunken Dragon," Juu said as she took another slurp of whiskey. But this time, she didn't spit it out. Leigh ignored her as she offered it to him, instead keeping his gaze fixed on the burning heaps that had once been trolls.

"How on earth do you manage to deal with it?" he whispered. "How can the two of you stand being fighters? How can Lyle?"

"Honestly?," Juubilee said, draping an arm across his narrow shoulders. "Honestly, I... don't think I'm bothered by it. I mean, I hate fighting against humanoids, but animals and things that want to eat me? Meh."

Leigh shrugged the human's arm off. He really hated how she was so... touchy-feely. "The battle..." he said.

"That bothered everyone," Juu said quietly. I lost the one man who had ever seen me as more than just a pyromaniac, she thought to herself. And I had always treated him like dirt...

"It's never pleasant to have to kill your own kind," Arachne agreed. "And it's doubly hard to have to defend your home against the reanimated corpses of people you used to know."

Leigh's eyes narrowed and he clenched his fists. "I hate necromancers," he hissed. And I hate their brat just as much!

Arachne seemed to have read his thoughts. "He saved us," she said, quietly but firmly. "He could have just left us ignorant, could have left us to die... but he didn't. Don't hate him for the things he can not change."

"...Whoever you two are talking about..." Juubilee muttered, stretching. She started walking, picking her way carefully between the foul-smelling, smouldering piles. "Come on you two. Day-light's a-wastin', and we're almost there!" She stopped suddenly.

"Oooooh! Shiny!" the attention-deficient mage squealed with excitement. She stooped down to pick something up, and then pranced back over to show Arachne. It appeared to be a pair of cropped breeches... but they were sequined, with hundreds of tiny bits of metal that caught the light and scattered it in all directions.

"... Wow," was all the girl elf could say. Juubilee shooed at Leigh, and he turned his back. Arachne followed suit as Juu pulled the odd pants on.

"Okay, you can turn around now." When they did, the sight was... strange, to say the least. Juubilee seemed to really like the pants, and even did a little jig, giggling as the light danced with her. "I shall call them the Righteous Leggings of Infinite Shininess!" Juu declared proudly. Then she sobered a little. "...Do they make me look fat?"

I will not strangle the pyro, Leigh thought, squinchhing his eyes shut. I will not strangle the pyro. I will not strangle the pyro. I will not strangle the pyro. I will not strangle the pyro. I will not strangle the pyro. I will not strangle the pyro...

"I thought you said you were going to sew it into a sack," Lycaon said, holding up what had become of the skunk. Myrn shrugged.

"Egh, I changed my mind. I decided that a round-scarf might be more fun."

"That's disturbing..." Lycaon handed the black and white neck-wear back. "Are you seriously going to wear it?"

"Yep," his soon-to-be-brother-in-law laughed, slipping it over his head. It covered him from shoulders to eyes, masking his face like a ninja. A ninja with a skunk-fur face-mask. Not something you'd see every day... unless you happened to be friends with Myrn. Lycaon was seriously starting to think of sending him on a one-way trip to the loony-bin.

"Yo, you two!" Jason's voice called. He and Yvonne were walking over, both with shovels and picks resting on their shoulders. "Let's all get dwarfy and dig us some foundations!"

"Reinforcements...I hate you," Lycaon mumbled out the side of his mouth. Myrn chuckled.

"Hey, I'm not the only one who follows tradition... at times."

Oberon was the first back onto the ship, dropping to the deck as Sab Sab swooped over it. They had found what they needed to know. They now knew what would drive Lolith to attack their world, as well as the fact that she was not a powerful as a true Deadric Prince. Not yet, anyway. If she got the spider carving from Arachne though... they had to ensure that wouldn't happen. Otherwise, Lolith would be able to do even more harm, and she would be nigh on impossible to stop.

Unless...

"Do you think the Daedra would side with us?" the dwarf said, giving voice to his thoughts. Sab scratched her chin.

"Well, we've already got Sheogorath on our side..."

"Duh."

"...I don't think it would be two difficult to get Azura to help. She might aid us only with cryptic riddles we'd have to solve, but I believe she would be willing to help. And maybe Malacath could be pursuaded... If I recall correctly, he's taken a bit of a liking to Sheogorath, since the new mad-god is ostracized by his own people..." The morpher mumbled to herself for a few moments longer, than nodded. "If worse comes to worse, I think we can count on those threes' assistance."

"Let's hope so..." Oberon whispered, balling his hands into fists. "I fear we'll need it if Lolith is to fall."

"And, God willing, she will."

"Indeed. God willing."


	12. Ch 12: Tundra Picnic

**Chapter Twelve: Tundra Picnic**

Nearly two ten-days had passed since the outsiders had last been to Toril. Guen padded along beside her friend as they went about on their daily patrol. Drizzt was lost in his own thoughts, and the panther could well guess what their subject was. Just because she was unable to speak, it did not mean she was a dumb beast.

Cattie-Brie was on the path ahead of them, the path that wound about Kelvin's Cairn. She was practically leaping with joy and vitality. Summer was short, and the deadly chill of the long winter was always approaching. The girl wished to spend as much of that precious time with her drow friend and Guen as she could possibly get away with.

"Hail!" Cattie cried, skipping up to greet them. Guen purred deep in her throat as Cattie-Brie scratched behind her ears and under her chin. She liked this girl. "I brought a picnic luncheon, too!" The human-child said brightly, displaying the basket she carried on her arm.

Drizzt smiled. Cattie-Brie could always make him smile, no matter what was on his mind. The three of them sat on the tough tundra grass and broke bread together. Of course the powers that be decided that this was another perfect time to introduce people. The powers that be ALWAYS choose moments of tranquility to cause chaos.

"I'm gonna go say hi," Juu announced, standing up. Leigh reached out and yanked her back down.

"Silence, you fool," he hissed. He pointed. "Can you not see that one is a dark-elf?"

"Nope. I'm totally blind."

Leigh had to dig his nails into his palms to keep from wringing his fellow mage's neck. They drew blood. "At least pretend you aren't an idiot, please."

"How else are we supposed to know if he's the one we're looking for?"

"By observing from a safe distance."

"Oh please, Leigh," Arachne almost snorted. "Do you really think that snooping will help us at all? If anything, it will only hinder. Spying on people isn't exactly a sure-fire way to earn anyone's trust, ya know."

"And if he is not friendly?" Leigh asked in a harsh whisper. "What then? Let's at least figure out if he's going to attack on sight or not."

"... Well, that's already decided."

The male elf tilted his head. "Say what?"

"He already knows of our presense. Juubilee ensured that. And look at that! ...we aren't skewered on a pair of scimitars." Arachne stood up from behind the low outcropping of rock. "I say we be civilized and go say hello."

Juu chuckled. "Ha, I'm more civilized than you!" she teased the telekinetic mage. Then she burped. Loudly; and there was no 'exscuse me' afterwards. Leigh refrained from commenting.

"Greetings and salutations!"

Cattie-Brie glanced back, startled, to view the visitor. Drizzt only nodded to himself and stood up. He had been wondering how long it would take before the outsiders showed themselves. But this wasn't one of the original group. She was an elf, just about on level with his shoulder, with very pale skin, and bluish black hair pulled up into a high ponytail. She was smiling, her eyes squinched up into narrow slits.

"Well met," the drow greeted her. She bowed slightly.

"A pleasant day to ya both!" she said. Drizzt noted that she had the same strange, drawling accent that the others had posessed. It was... odd, but it also made him want to hear more of it. A little suspicion was begining to nudge at his mind. And then the female long-ear confirmed it:

"I'm called Arachne. And you are?"

Leigh hurried after Arachne. He was not about to let her face the potential psychopath alone; after all, he was supposed to keep her safe. To his surprise, and to be honest, his disappointment, the drow did not attack her. Leigh had just about had all he could take of Juubilee's... Juubilee-ness, and was itching to let off some steam. By making someone's head implode.

Oh well.

"How could you know who I am?" Arachne asked once the drow and Cattie-Brie had introduced themselves. She was more than a little bit surprised when Drizzt told her he had been expecting her. Of course, he didn't say it in that way. Creepy. "I don't believe we've ever met before. Has word reached up here because we've been askin' around for directions to Icewind?"

"A werewolf girl by the name of Phelan de Sabreclaw informed me about you," Drizzt said. "She said that you two were close friends."

Arachne calmed dramatically. "Yes, we are. We joined my sister's archers together, her as an apprentice, me as an aspiring Feather-blade. After only a few months, we were thicker than thieves... but how did she get to this world?"

"Planes-walking," the drow replied. "I do not fully understand it, but that is the reason she and her friends gave. Does it mean anything to you?"

"...Yes. But Planes-walkers... they're almost unheard of. To my knowledge, there are no Walkers in Divishre or Imptula. We got here through a portal that Juubilee created."

"Then, they were lying?" Drizzt asked, raising one eyebrow. Arachne shook her head.

"I... I do not know. It seems unlikely that she would tell a falsehood. In fact, she would refuse to back anyone else who told a lie, and she'd tell the truth in the liar's stead."

"Well, maybe one of them is a Planes-walker, and we just didn't know about it," Juubilee said, running up right behind Leigh.

Drizzt's handsome face twisted in surprise. He looked the male long-ear up and down in stunned silence. Arachne was a little on the petite side, and the first one, Myrn, had been the same height as Drizzt, just a good deal thinner, but this one...

"What are you gawking at?" Leigh asked, unnerved by the dark-elf's lavender eyes.

"Ye are an elf?" Cattie-Brie inquired of the long-ear.

"...Yeah..."

"How are ye so tall?"

"I am not tall," Leigh said. "You're drow pal there is just runty. Like the brat. I'm just below average; five feet, nine inches. My brother's tall; six feet. What are you?" he asked, turning back to Drizzt. "four feet?"

"Five four," Juu said, measuring Drizzt's height against her own. "Give or take a milimeter or two."

"Correct," the dark-elf said, turning to address her. But it wasn't just Leigh's tallness that was odd; his hair was blue, like the winter sky. Juubilee, though apparently human, was no better, having hair AND eyes the color of blood... He would never understand these creatures. But he decided to try being open towards them, as the first visitors had been to him. Chances were, such an approach would be more familiar to them, and therefore be met with better results. "I am Drizzt Do' Urden."

"Juubilee Welsen," Juu answered with a grin and a handshake. "Good ta meetcha." She pointed to Leigh. "And old sour-puss here is Arleigh Lendelt." The mage lowered her voice to a conspirative whisper, leaning close: "Between you and me, he's a mean little *beep* of a prude."

Leigh apparently heard what his fellow mage had said, because he fixed her with a withering glare and snarled. Juu shrugged, and Drizzt tried not to flinch as she draped an arm across his shoulders. "Ignoring him is probably the best course of action," she told him. True to her own advice, she paid no heed to Leigh as his withering glare became possitively murderous. Instead, she made a pained face and pushed herself away, much to Drizzt's relief. "Damn, the ears aren't the only pointy things. Seriously, hugging an elf is like trying to dance with a cactus!"

Drizzt felt the feeling of ease slipping over him again, and he wondered why the outsiders seemed to be unaware of their lulling effects. Perhaps it really was involuntary... In either case, he chose once again to mimic the tactics of the visitors; bluntness. "Why is it that you outsiders have a calming aura about you?"

The two long-eared elves simply looked at him, confusion clear in their expressions. Juubilee, on the other hand, scratched her chin. "So, I'm not going crazy..." she said to herself. She looked from Drizzt to Cattie-Brie, then back again. "It's an Efeldan thing. But only about half of us have it. Don't ask me what it is; I don't have a clue." She shrugged. "All I know is it's not magic, and it's not a controlable thing. It's like a heart-beat."

Arachne took a deep breath and broke in. "Beggin' your pardon, but... can we ask ya'll a few questions?"

**I just updated this chapter after I did a little more research... hope it flows better.**

**Yeah, so I am now having writer's block. If ya'll have any ideas, please let me know, no matter how crazy they may be. Also, I know that I have way too many OCs, and they're stealing Drizzt thunder- But worry not! I now ask of you this: When the real adventure begins, choose two of the original 'outsiders' troupe. They are the only ones that will be going on the real ride. Please note, however, that Kim Kim will not be going. She has other business to attend to. Also, I don't know if I can have Myrn and Leigh in the same proximity... for reasons that will become blatantly obvious in a few chapters! So, thank you, and share your ideas and votes!**


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